


Love Drunk

by Merry_Wars (Naughty_Yorick), Naughty_Yorick



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: Bondage, Confessions, Drinking, Drunken fluff, F/M, Fluff, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, pining (sort of), sexy-talk, silliness, warning - lots of dialogue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-30 20:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14504538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naughty_Yorick/pseuds/Merry_Wars, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naughty_Yorick/pseuds/Naughty_Yorick
Summary: “Oh, no, you're just completely in love with the guy who ties you up once a week!”“I am not in love with him!”“You are!”Roxanne goes out with her work friends and makes a phone call she is really, really going to regret in the morning.





	1. Chapter One

Getting this drunk had been a terrible mistake. 

The station had hired a swanky club downtown with an open bar to celebrate their 150th report on a Megamind “Major Incident” - a huge milestone, but also a very strong message to the other stations: Megamind stories _belonged_ to Channel 8. This was, everyone knew, almost entirely thanks to Roxanne, so she'd been plied with drinks all evening from station managers and owners who were “just so grateful, Roxie”. 

Honestly, she hadn't really intended to go to the party, but she was the face of Megamind Reporting in Metro City and, after all, most of her coworkers were far more amicable than Hal. There were free drinks, reasonably good music and, well, it was better than sitting at home and watching TV all evening, vaguely worrying that she wasn't cool anymore. 

So there’s champagne. There are spirits. At one stage there’s tequila slammers (slammer, to be precise. She isn't 21 anymore), and she’s actually having a pretty good time. At work she's acutely aware that she can be a little...stiff. Partly because she's always got her guard up after working with Hal for three years and partly because she fought to get where she is and she's not going to let anyone take that from her. She's been used to having to fight her way up, and now she's suddenly been flung into the spotlight, the fight is a lot less...brutal. She isn't sure how she feels about that. 

No, that's wrong. She is _very_ sure how she feels about it. She isn't the station's top reporter because she's the best, she's the top reporter because she was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time and is now the resident villain’s favourite damsel. His only damsel. It's _bullshit_ , she thinks to herself, as one of the morning anchors wanders away after giving her a firm shoulder grip and telling her to “hang in there”, with a wink. 

But it's not worth saying that _out loud_ , not worth getting angry with the little gang of people she's actually spending the evening with. They're all like her, or like how she was five years ago, waiting for their big break. It's just most people's big breaks don't tend to be blue as well. 

_Urgh, Roxanne, stop. Let yourself have fun._

She's sat at a round table with a gang of co-workers, tapping at the glittery tabletop with her fingernails. Todd, one of the new guys, appears with a fresh bottle of champagne and sits down next to her. 

“So,” he begins, as he re-fills her glass, “How's Metro Man?”

Roxanne rolls her eyes before she can stop herself. She thinks she's gotten away with it and starts to reply, before she's cut off by Natasha, the camerawoman she's desperately been trying to poach for the past couple of months.  
“Oh shut up, Todd, how would you like it if people were grilling you all the time about your love life?” She reaches across Roxanne for the bottle, topping up her own glass before passing it along the table.

Todd takes a sip of his champagne and says, slowly, “If _I_ was going out with Metro Man? I dunno, Tash, that sounds pretty fantastic to me.”

Roxanne lets out a sharp bark of laughter before she can stop herself. 

“Oh?” Todd raises his eyebrows and leans in, “Not all so perfect?”

Roxanne gives him a friendly shove. “That is none of your business.”

He tuts and leans back. “So boring, Roxanne!”

She raises her glass, “As always”

“So...No Metro Man talk?”

“No Metro Man talk.”

Lexie, one of the new interns, leans over. “How about the other man in your life?”

Roxanne pauses, her champagne glass held to her lips. “Hmm?”

“ _You_ know. Isn’t it...well. Don’t you worry about Megamind? And the kidnappings? Like, I know you don’t wanna talk shop but…”

She braces herself. Lexie is lovely, but Roxanne knows exactly what she’s going to say next. 

_“...You’re just so _brave_.” _

__

__

Oh, Jesus. Maybe she should humoured Todd. 

Several hours later, Roxanne finds herself making her way home with a pilfered bottle of champagne, takeout under one arm and her phone held tightly to her face. Her best friend may live in England, but that won’t stop her from drunk calling her. Even if it is six in the morning there. 

“Roxanne, you're drunk.” Fiona is always to the point. Drunk Roxanne isn’t having any of it. 

“I am not drunk. You're drunk. Your...your face is drunk” 

“So you had a nice evening?” 

“It was fine. It was nice! Good. Lots of...lots of the people.” 

“Mm-hmm...lots of booze?” 

“You know what. Yes. _How_ did you know?” 

“A hunch. So...to what do I owe this honour?” 

“I jus’ wanted a chat with my best friend.” 

“Yeah, and?” 

“Urgh, Fi!” 

"What?” 

“Everyone keeps _talking_ about _Wayne_ and it's so _boring_ and they never stop.” 

“Everyone still desperate to know what he's like in bed?” 

“Yes! Why does everyone care? Why does everyone think I know?!” 

“Because...you’ve woven an elaborate lie to keep your mum off your back and you're in way too deep to tell anyone?” 

“Well _when you put it like that!_ ” 

“Are you in a taxi? Isn't this, you know, the big secret?” 

“Ffff, nah. The bar was ten minutes from my apartment and the place with the spicy fries is halfway between the two.” 

“You got spicy fries?” 

“Yes. Jealous?” 

“Madly jealous. So you spent five hours making up tantalising sex stories about Captain Fantastic?" 

_“Urgh Fi, don't even joke. I love him but _yuck_. But it's okay, I just did the, the thing with the reporter voice and ‘oh we're so _private_ ’ and they mostly shut up.”_

“So what’s the problem?” 

“Because it means I can’t just talk about stuff, you know? I can’t have proper conversations without it being _oooh Metro Man’s girlfriend!_ ” 

“Oh yeah, it’s me who gets all the _‘stuff’_ ” 

“Shut up, Fiona, you love it” 

“Oh yes I really love getting to hear drunk-Roxanne telling me how much she wants to fu-” 

“ _Shhhh! Shh-shh-shh!_ ” 

“Roxanne I’m in _Islington_ , I don’t think anyone here cares.” 

“Yeah but you can’t just say it!” 

“Look. I’ve known you for, like, a bazillion years. I know when you want it and babe: you want it.” 

“No I don’t!” 

Fiona puts on a sing-song voice. “‘ _Oh, Fi, he’s so clever, and he’s so smart, and he wears so much leather...’_ ” 

“I do not sound like that.” 

“Yeah you do!” 

“And I have never - I’ve never said anything about _leather!_ ” 

“Liar. You said that literally last time you drunk called me.” 

Roxanne sighs. Drinking was a bad idea. Calling Fiona was a _terrible idea_. “You’re mean”, she manages. 

“Yes, yes I am. But you can't just, I dunno, thirst over him and-” 

“I know! Hey, Carlos!” 

“Fiona, Roxanne, my name is _Fiona_ ” 

“Not you. My door-dude. Doorguy. Door...door man.” 

“Ah, of course” 

“Anyway,” Roxanne steps into the elevator and presses the button for the top floor, “Anyway. I am not... _thirsting_.” 

"Oh, no, you're just completely in love with the guy who ties you up once a week!” 

“I am not in love with him!” 

“You are!” 

“That, my friend, is slander...look...I might, you know, I might...like _spending time with him_ , but that’s nothing, that doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

Just outside her apartment, Roxanne tries to find a way to balance her spicy fries, the half-empty bottle of champagne and her purse as she searches for her keys. 

“Does he challenge me intel-inta...is he witty? Sure. Is he cute? Yeah obviously. Is he...Hold on. Hold on.” 

There's a muffled rustling noise and the sound of Roxanne mumbling to herself. 

“You alright over there, Rox?” 

“Opening the door is a real challenge, Fiona, it’s just not...wait...AHA!” 

Fiona winces. She’s about to say something when Roxanne ploughs ahead as she finally manages to slip the key into the lock. 

“Does he make me laugh? Yes. Do I think about him loads? Sure. Is he more interesting than Wayne? Duh. Do I... _where is that fucking light switch_...Do I wanna rip off that stupid leather outfit and find out if his cock is as giant and blue as his head? Yes obviously I do, but that doesn't mean- 

_CLICK_

“ _Argh!_ ” 

“Roxanne? You okay?” 

“ _holyshitberightbackBYE_ " 


	2. Chapter Two

150 was an impressive number. One hundred and fifty. But what's more impressive? One hundred and fifty one.

He'd considered turning up at the bar - crashing his own party - blowing up the door with a witty quip about how his invite must have not made it - but it seemed too tacky.

He was also, truth be told, a little insulted. Channel 8 celebrating _him_ , claiming him like a prize pet. They didn't _own_ him. No one did. He'd actually discussed that evening (to Minion’s complete horror) kidnapping someone else, a reporter from a competing station. Just to show them. To prove...something. But he couldn't do it. It was...wrong. He insisted that it was because Miss Ritchi was reliable, and that this was _her_ celebration just as much as it was his.

Honestly, though? Kidnapping someone else felt...immoral. Like an infidelity. He didn't tell Minion that, although he suspected he knew.

So this was the plan - let them celebrate, naively dance the night away, then in the dead of night swoop in and launch a new scheme. It didn't need to be grand, didn't need to be impressive. Just an inconvenience. Force them all back out of bed so they could drunkenly embarrass themselves for the whole city to see.

It wasn't an _evil_ plan, but it _was_ incredibly petty, and sometimes that was even better.

He knew Roxanne had been at the party but by now had learnt her habits fairly well; she didn’t seem to be a fan of these big work gatherings and often left early, rarely anything more than a little tipsy, glad to be away from her coworkers. That made the plot even more delicious - no doubt she too was feeling a little resentful at the way her station was taking the credit for _her_ job.

So he’s feeling surprised, and more than a little bored, now it’s half past one and she _still_ hasn’t come home. He had started on her balcony, waiting outside ready to pounce. When the sun set and it started to grow cold, he picked the lock (picked, _not_ broke) and made his way inside. Careful to keep the lights off (better for a surprise), he had awkwardly perched on an armchair and waited. An hour later, he had made himself a coffee and took a mental note to replace her filters before the next kidnapping. An hour after that, he had turned on the TV and flipped through the channels for half an hour before giving up on finding anything remotely entertaining.

And now he’s lying sprawled on her couch in the dark wondering if he may as well call it a night and go home. Late-night plots are nothing new but one at twenty to two is _unheard of_. He knows there’s no point calling Minion - the hench-fish stopped responding forty-five minutes ago and is almost definitely asleep.

 _Evil Gods_ , he’s bored.

He stands up with a yawn and stretches. Oh, fuck it. He’s going ho-

There’s a rattling outside. Someone’s trying to get in. Obviously, not _someone_ . Roxanne is trying to get in. He can hear her voice, muffled through the wooden door. She’s talking to someone. Shit. Has she brought someone home? Has she _brought someone home_? He’s frozen, completely stuck to the spot, when the door swings open and she staggers in.

She’s alone. And she is _extremely_ drunk. She’s got a bottle of champagne in one hand, a fast-food takeout bag in the other and her mobile tucked between her shoulder and ear. She chats away, completely oblivious to his presence. Hidden in the dark, he’s beginning to wish he’d left the balcony door open so he could disappear without her needing to know he’d ever been there.

Roxanne fumbles for the lightswitch.

“Does he make me laugh? Yes. Do I think about him loads? _Sure._ ”

Ah. Is this...is this a private conversation that he should in no way be listening to? About... _urgh_ , about Metro Man? Maybe he can just open the door and she won’t noti-

“Is he more interesting than Wayne? Yes. Do I… _where is that fucking light switch_..”

_Wayne? Wayne as in, Metro Man? Does that mean-_

“Do I wanna rip off that stupid leather outfit and find out if his cock is as giant and blue as his head? _Yes obviously I do_ , but that doesn't mean-”

 _CLICK_.

The lights flash on. Roxanne sees him, immediately, and screams. Megamind shouts, shouts to stop himself from screaming too.

“I'm here! To take you! _Kidnap_ you! Aha!”

She shouts a hasty goodbye down the phone, then turns to him.

“You're in my house!”

“Because of the, the kidnapping! The aforementioned kidnapping!”

“What?!”

“I, you know...supervillain! Here to kidnap you for my latest diabolical scheme! Yes! _Not_ eavesdropping on your, your conversations! Here for _strictly business purposes_!”

He's rambling. His mouth desperately trying to drown out Roxanne’s words, which are still spinning around in his head. 

Roxanne, for her part, looks like a deer in headlights. Her face is a deep scarlet and now the reality that _Megamind is in her apartment_ has set in her mind is repeating her own words back to her, too. _Roxanne why the hell did you say that?_  

Megamind is still flailing, ranting about nothing, clearly completely thrown off. There's no way he _didn't_ hear.

 _God_ , she thinks, _I said it because it's true._

“...and will not stand in the way of my giant - my _great!_ My _great_ scheme!” He looks at her. His face is flushed purple. Roxanne looks as lost as he feels, so he punctuates that last statement - “ _Hah!_ ” 

She blinks, dazed.

“I'm too drunk for this.”

She strides forwards, a purposeful look on her face, and Megamind is suddenly very aware of her low-cut dress, her messy hair, the sound of her heels clacking as she closes the space between them. Megamind is trapped, frozen, is this happening, is this _really_ happening?

His lips part, just a fraction.

And she shoves the takeout bag into his arms. “Hold this.”

She flounces away, throws herself onto the couch and kicks off her heels with a wince. She throws the phone down next to her and with an _incredibly_ unladylike movement swings her legs around and places her feet on the low coffee table.

She takes a long swig from the bottle, her head tilted back, revealing the full length of her neck and making her collar bones even more pronounced.

Megamind swallows.

“You know,” she says, finally, “I thought you were gonna be there.”

He binks. “Be where?”

“At the party. I thought you were gonna show up and...you know, get all evil and stuff.”

“Well, I-”

She cuts him off, extending a finger at him in a _hold it right there_ motion.

“Ah, wait, I know! Right...we would have been, you know…” she's suddenly on her feet, the bottle of champagne leaning dangerously on the arm of the couch, and doing a kind of - is that dancing?

“So, here's us, having a good time right?”

“Uh-huh”

“Yeah! And then, then, _BOOM!_ ” She splays her fingers out, “and you,” an accusatory finger points at him, “You walk in, waving your gun around, like this-”

Megamind watches as she holds one hand like a gun, and...her shoulders go back, her chin points upwards. There's a swagger to her now and a single eyebrow raised in a decidedly smug expression. She's... _doing_ Megamind. It's....unsettling. And inaccurate!

“I do _not-_ ”

“Shush! Right, you come in, and then Andy, from accounts, he comes over like he thinks he's some hero and _ZAP!_ You dehydrate him, he's a little cube deely, and you pick it up and _flick_ it onto a table and that's hilarious because Andy is a _jerk_.”

“Uh?”

Roxanne drops her shoulders, her posture shifts, she's no longer playing at Megamind. “Urgh he's a _total_ asshole. All of this…‘ _oh Megamind isn't even that scary’_ bullshit. Like he'd know.” A sudden thought seems to cross her mind. “Oh, no, better idea! You could zap Hal, he deserves it more. Zap him and, I dunno, throw the cube into your alligator pit!”

“Hal...your camera man?”

“ _Yes_ my camera man. Do we know any other Hals? He's a _total_ creep. Doesn't understand the meaning of the word ‘no’.”

Megamind’s eyes darken. “What?”

“He is _relentless,_ God. _Hey Roxie wanna get coffee? Hey Roxaroo do you wanna come back to mine? Hey Rox come and check out my new lense in the back of my van -_ like that isn't _totally_ inappropriate!”

Roxanne sighs. She hasn't noticed the new, steely expression on Megamind’s face, or the sure set of his shoulders.

“He is the _only person,”_ she says, exasperated, “who apparently doesn't care about the whole _Metro Man act_ and the _only_ one who I wish did.”

Megamind is ripped, suddenly, from his mental calculations for just how many alligators he should throw Hal to. _Act_?

“I...Miss Ritchi?”

“My name is _Roxanne_ , Megamind”

He ignores that. “Metro Man...Act?”

Roxanne’s eyes go wide as she realises what she just said. “I...uh…No! Don’t distract me! You’re using your...your _evil wiles_ on me. Anyway!” The shoulders go back, the head goes up, the eyebrow raises. “You, you shoot Hal, and you say-”

“ _Miss Ritchi-_ ”

She shouts over him. “And _you say_ : ‘Sorry I'm late to the party! Seems my invitation must have gotten lost in the mail!’”

He can't help but laugh. It bursts out of him, and Roxanne’s eyes go wide and it occurs to him that she's probably never heard him laugh before, not really. She tries to hold her ‘Megamind’ pose, but she too starts to giggle.

“What?” She manages.

“That...that was...impressively accurate. Almost word-for-word. I’ll admit, Roxanne...” He chuckles, “You’re good. Or rather…” now it’s his turn to raise an eyebrow, “you’re good at being evil.”

Roxanne laughs, victorious. “There’s only room for _one_ evil genius in this city, Megamind. You’ll have to step down!”

Before he can stop himself, before the _sensible_ voice in his head tells him to keep quiet, he retorts “You know, the position of Evil Queen is still open.”

The smirk on her face falters, for a split second. She fixes it instantly, but it’s too late. The smug smile seems fake, now. _Shit_. That had been a stupid thing to say.

“I mean,” He begins, “That is, uh…” He nervously fiddles with the takeout bag, which he realises he’s still holding.

“Gimme those.” She holds her hand out and he gingerly gives her the bag. She reaches in and pulls out a box of fries covered in a sticky sauce. Apparently uncaring about the mess, she grabs a few and pops them in her mouth.

“Want one?” She offers the box up to him. He shakes his head.

“Miss Ritchi, are you - ah - are you...alright?”

“I...really am too drunk for this.” Roxanne eats another fry and sighs. “I’m...urgh. Sorry. Sorry Megamind.”

“It’s...okay?”

“I assume we’re just gonna...gonna pretend like this didn’t happen, right? Never talk about it again?” She doesn’t look at him.

“If that’s...what you want. Yes.” He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel. Is she ashamed? Ashamed to be attracted to him?

She sighs. “I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what I want. I don’t want it to be weird. I don’t want to stop...” She chews on her lip, looking for the right words, “I don’t want to stop seeing you, I guess?”

 _Seeing you_? Megamind isn’t sure what she means. He knows that “seeing” is a kind of strange human euphemism for dating someone, or sleeping with someone. But they aren’t dating. Or...or anything else.

“I...uh…”

“Oh _God_ it _is_ weird. I’m such a loser.” She puts her head in her hands. Megamind isn’t sure what to do. He knows he should comfort her, say something, but is that inappropriate now? Will that make this worse?

Oh, fuck it. He bends down and places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You’re not a loser.”

She laughs derisively. “I just told the _local supervillain_ that I want to see his...want to...the man who _ties me up_ once a week! I am a _total_ loser. If I tried I could probably find, you know, a guy who _isn't_ a supervillain, but the only guy I _want_ is my...my kidnapper.”

She...wants him. She wants him but she wishes she didn’t. Why does this have to hurt so much? “You’re not a loser. You’re smart, and funny...you just...just have terrible taste. That’s all.”

She snorts. “What happened to…to… ‘handsome master of villainy’, or whatever?”

“Well…” He takes a deep breath, “I _am_ incredibly handsome. But...I know what I am. A blue-skinned alien freak. I get it, really. I’m not exactly...ideal.”

Roxanne laughs, short and sharp, a real smile playing on her face. “Are you blind?”

“What?”

“Are you…” She pauses. She realises. “You...why do you think I’m upset?”

“What?”

“Stop saying that. Why am I upset?”

Is this a trick? “Because….because you have... _urges_ towards me which you find…” What’s the right word? “Wrong. Repulsive? You’re...ashamed. So that makes you sad?” He finishes, lamely.

She actually sits up, now, and thrusts the bottle of champagne into his hands, “You need this more than me. You think I’m...repulsed?”

“Or...something along those lines. Yes?”

“God you really _do_ hate yourself. That’s not...that’s not even _close_ , Megamind. Not slightly. I...look. I’m gonna tell you this thing and tomorrow I might not remember so you have to _promise_ me, okay?”

“Promise what?”

“Don’t freak out. Don’t like, run away. Don’t start kidnapping someone else ‘cos I know where you live and I’ll come find you.”

“You don’t know where I live.”

She raises a single eyebrow.

“...Do you know where I live?”

She laughs, then takes a deep breath. “I...like you. Yeah? I guess? The stuff I was saying on the phone. But...it’s not gonna happen. So...it’s shitty, you know? Wanting something you can’t have.”

“Why can’t you?”

It slips out. It’s not until he’s said it, until the words are hanging in the air between them, that he realises what he’s just said, what he’s implied.

She looks at him, and chooses her next words carefully and slowly. “Because...you don’t like me?”

“I don’t?”

She tries to respond, but he cuts her off.

“You should go to bed,” he says, trying to sound kind, “You need some sleep. Tomorrow you’re going to _really_ regret this conversation.”

She nods, dazed, and stands. He goes to hand the bottle of champagne back to her, then stops. Considers.

He lifts it to his lips and drinks. She watches. A little trickle of champagne drips down his chin and traces the outline of his neck. Roxanne can feel her face turning pink. He lowers the bottle, licks his lips, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before passing the bottle back and heading towards the patio doors, which he pushes open.

He turns to look at her.

“It is.”

She blinks. “What?”

“I mean, I don’t have an extensive sample size. But from what I’ve seen. It is.”

Roxanne’s eyes widen as realisation dawns as the doors shut behind him. She has _no idea what to do with this information oh my god oh my god oh my - FOLLOW HIM!_

She jumps forward and throws the patio doors open. Somewhere up above, she hears the hoverbike roar to life and peel away. She sighs. She takes the bottle of champagne, still tightly held in her hand, and places it on the balcony wall.

From inside, her phone begins to ring.

“Right,” she mutters to herself. “Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I just realised I misquoted my own fanfic. Well done me. Edited chapter one because lets face it, "giant" is funnier than "big". 
> 
> This took far too long to write. I couldn't decide how I should play it so had loads of drafts jumping between genres trying to find the best fit. In the end, I combined two (because hey, when I'm drunk I'm laughing one second and crying the next).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay. Y'all asked for it.

Everything hurts. Everything is fog, fog and a dull ache in the back of her eyeballs. 

For a long moment she lies half-awake, her head swimming, feeling a little like she's going to be sick. Her head throbs.

And then, in a moment of horrible clarity, it all comes flooding back. 

_ Oh fuck. _

The party. The champagne. The  _ phonecall. _ Jesus, she'd told him  _ everything. _

Maybe if she just lies in bed she’ll gather dust and eventually everyone will forget she ever existed. She starts to accept her inevitable fate, when there’s another sharp stab of pain in her temple. Fine, fine. The world can swallow her up  _ after _ she’s had some painkillers.

Roxanne forces herself out of bed and unsteadily makes her way downstairs. She heads to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of water and grabs a slice of bread out of the bread bin, which she rips in half and slowly, methodically chews.

She wonders over to the couch, determined to eat and drink something before heading back to bed.

She's fucked. Totally, absolutely fucked. The bright, midday light that’s pouring in through the windows makes her wince, so she drags herself back upstairs into the musty darkness of her bedroom. She reluctantly throws open a window then crawls over to her bedside table and pulls a bottle of aspirin out of the drawer. 

As she knocks back the pills, she notices her phone (on the floor, for some reason) flash with a notification.

She's got a backlog of messages from Fiona, ranging from laughing at her to hoping her hangover isn't too bad. There's a frankly astonishing number of screenshots of what are clearly the biggest, bluest sex toys that Fiona could find, which leave Roxanne wondering how long her friend has been holding onto them, waiting for the opportune moment. 

She groans as she flicks through the messaging app and sits up, the room spinning slightly, and lets herself fall down onto the bed. She turns the brightness all the way down on her phone and taps out a message.

_ Im going to die _

She’s too hungover and in too much pain to work out what time it is in England right now, so not expecting a response she dumps the phone back on the bedside table, slides under the covers and tries to get back to sleep.

An hour later, her phone buzzes.

**Fi-Fi:** _ U dead? _

**Alien Queen:** _ Yeah _

**Alien Queen:** _ Wait _

**Alien Queen:** _ Did you change my name again _

**Fi-Fi:** . _..no _

**Fi-Fi:** _ Also u deserve to be hungover after calling me so late _

**Alien Queen:** _ Shut up _

**Fi-Fi:** _ So _

**Fi-Fi:** _ What are you gonna do? _

**Alien Queen:** _ Idk _

**Alien Queen:** _ Die? _

**Fi-Fi:** _ Or you could, you know _

**Fi-Fi:** _ Talk to him _

**Alien Queen:** _ You are HILARIOUS _

**Fi-Fi:** _ Come on _

**Fi-Fi:** _ Maybe hes into it _

**Alien Queen:** _ Or i scared him off FORVER _

**Fi-Fi:** _ nah hes into it _

**Fi-Fi:** _ Next time he kidnaps you ask _

**Alien Queen:** _ Ask what?? _

**Fi-Fi:** _ Idk _

**Fi-Fi:** _ For proof _

**Fi-Fi:** _ You know ;) _

The next text is  _ another _ screenshot. Roxanne sighs, buries her head in her pillow and squeezes her eyes shut.

Fiona's got a point. Sort of. What's going to happen when he kidnaps her again? Is it going to go back to how it always was? Surely not: slipping back into that easy banter feels impossible now. What if…what if he never kidnaps her again?

Maybe that's for the best. Maybe she'll get over this infatuation when she's not around him all the time. She could officially announce that she and Wayne aren't a couple, go on a  _ real _ date. And then...well, she'll just have to get used to him kidnapping someone else.

She feels sick again.

God, she's screwed.

 

\--

 

The next day, now with a clear head and settled stomach, Roxanne is drinking a coffee near the fountain in the centre of the city before she heads to work when there's an ear-splitting scream. She spins around.  

Oh, God.

Megamind, inside what appears to be an enormous glass bubble, has landed in the middle of the fountain. The water begins to vibrate, then bubble and boil as people leap back from the edge. Steam rises like clouds, obscuring the square.

She hadn't expected to see him so soon. It's actually a relief, because now she doesn't have to agonise for days about what she's going to say to him. She can get it over with, like ripping off a band-aid. She's just got to be cool, calm: the unflappable Miss Ritchi, ready for anything. The quickening of her heart and the almost overwhelming feeling of butterflies in her stomach aren't helping but...she's a professional. She's got this. 

He spots her in the crowd. She readies herself as the steam from the fountain gets denser. 

And then...some unseen button is pressed, she can hear the distinctive “BOWG” of brainbots hidden somewhere in the fog...and he's gone. She blinks. 

Before she's had time to process what's just happened, the crowd begins to cheer. Metro Man looms out of the steam (just a fraction too late, as always).

“Do not fear, Citizens!” He calls, “He's going to be in very  _ hot water  _ when I'm done with him!”

There's more cheering, and he gazes down upon his adoring fans - and notices Roxanne. 

“Roxie?” He looks  _ thoroughly _ confused. She shrugs. “But-”

There's a metallic CRASH. He gives her a salute then zooms off: there'll be time for questions later.

She sighs and sets off in the opposite direction towards the Channel 8 building, vaguely wondering if Hal’s got the camera ready  
  
  


Fiona rings her that afternoon.

“So? How did it go?”

“How did  _ what _ go?”

“Did you speak to him?”

“What? No!”

“But...I saw on the Metro City Twitter, big fight, something about...steam? What happened? I need  _ all  _ the details.” 

Roxanne mumbles something.

“What?”

“It's nothing.”

“Come on, what happened? Did he-”

_ "He didn't-"  _ Roxanne realises she's talking very loudly, and in public, “He didn't kidnap me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

 

***

 

_ Or you could...talk to him _

She wants to. She  _ needs _ to - but it's nearing two weeks now and she hasn't heard a peep from him in all that time. There's still  _ plots _ , still contrivances around the city, minor inconveniences, but since the steam bomb there's been nothing grand, nothing showy. No mech suits, no robots, no doomsday devices. No kidnappings. 

Roxanne feels like she's felt every possible emotion over the last thirteen days. The hot, consuming embarrassment has passed (for the most part): she doesn't want the ground to swallow her up anymore. But she still feels disappointed in herself. She's terrified that this is it - that she's never going to see him again. At the time, she thought...well, it doesn't matter what she thought at the time because his very decided absence from her life has proven that she was wrong. She feels stupid - mad at herself for catching feelings and even  _ more  _ mad at herself for dragging Megamind into it. He was probably just being nice.

Or, equally likely, he just hadn't  _ got it.  _ She thought he'd admitted his feelings - What if he meant that he liked her  _ as a hostage _ . Even worse, What if it hadn't been a question -  _ I don't? _ \- but a statement.  _ You don't like me: I don't.  _ By day ten, she'd managed to convince herself that that must have been what he meant. 

Maybe he’d intended for her to feel so confused. Maybe he tricked her. Tricked her into thinking he liked her. Was he really  _ that  _ evil?

The worst thing, somehow worse than the embarrassment and the sadness, is that she still...wants to know. If it is. 

It  _ is _ true what she'd said to him. She  _ does _ like him. And try as she might she can't make herself stop, even though she knows it's futile. She finds her mind drifting, when she's bored, when she's in the shower, when she's lying in bed trying to get to sleep, back to the last thing he'd said to her. And…wondering. She wonders about it a  _ lot _ , and then feels even guiltier than before.

Feeling embarrassed is useless, she decides. She lets herself be angry, instead of guilty. She turns the hot little emotion around so she doesn't need to think about it any more. Being ashamed is a  _ Roxanne _ problem, being angry is a  _ Megamind _ problem.

Being angry is a lot easier than being sad. She's trying to pretend that she isn't crying in the shower, that she's not needing to scurry away to fix her make-up after every Megamind report that doesn't involve  _ her. _

 

***

 

A full sixteen days after the office party she wakes up with a canvas sack over her head that smells like old sweat and hair spray. She's just about ready to burst. When the bag is pulled from her head she wants to say something witty, something sarcastic to show him how  _ fine  _ she is, but seeing him again like this - up close, in the flesh - just brings that embarrassment back and she can  _ feel _ her face going red, goddammit.

She's hotly, suddenly embarrassed - Which makes her angry, angry at herself, angry at him - but she can't bring herself to do anything, can't challenge him. The pauses in his speech which usually she'd fill with quips and sarcasm remain silent. 

He doesn't even seem to notice. If he does, he certainly doesn't call her out on it. 

She watches him, half annoyed, half relieved, as he jumps around, performing the usual theatrics of villainy. She thinks about what he said.

There he is, prancing about in that  _ damn _ leather, and suddenly all she can think is  _ it is it is it is. _

But...she looks towards Minion, who is fiddling with some dials on the other side of the room, his back to her. Megamind is talking  _ at _ her rather than  _ to _ her - far more interested in the plot than whether or not she's listening to him. 

She glances down, quick quick -  _ Don't let him catch you looking. _

And then she looks again. A more appropriate word would be _stare._ _But he said..._

And Metro Man comes crashing in through the ceiling.

 

***

 

There's another kidnapping four days later. They're quietly slipping back into old routines. Usually he would have left more time, but today is Black Friday and he cannot resist the chance to make a show of what he calls “the eeevils of consumerism”. 

There are a  _ lot _ of puns.

Roxanne actually finds herself sort-of agreeing with a lot of the points he makes about the so-called holiday, which usually leads to some more interesting banter, but this year she's so distracted she keeps missing her cue.

He really does wear incredibly tight trousers. 

She can't pull her eyes away. Thankfully, today’s plot largely takes place in an abandoned shopping mall (of course), and she's been locked in a disused store a little to the side of the action. So she can stare all she wants in the certainty that no one will notice.

Metro Man arrives, there’s a brief fight, Megamind is thrown into the retro fountain in the centre of the Mall. The leather clings to him wetly. Roxanne is still blushing half an hour later when Metro Man  _ finally  _ remembers she’s there and lets her out. 

 

***

 

She’s going mad. This is the third kidnapping, and neither of them have brought it up. She’s tied to the goddamn chair, impatiently tapping a foot, and he’s  _ still _ acting like nothing is different, like she’s not suddenly seeing him in an entirely different way to how she was a month ago. 

She clenches her teeth and sets her jaw during his _ preamble  _ and then, when there's a moment of silence where he’s expecting  _ witty back-and-forth banter _ , she spits out. 

“I think you're lying.” It comes out a lot harsher than she intended. 

He is momentarily thrown off. “I do not  _ lie  _ about the fate of Metrocity, Miss Ritchi. I'd much rather you stay  _ aware  _ of your grizzly demise!”

“Not about that. About...the other thing.”

“The...other thing?” He looks completely confused, then turns to Minion, who shrugs, then back to Roxanne. “There's another thing?”

The pettiness that fuelled her outburst is waning, giving way to embarrassment again. Her neck is getting hot. This is  _ not _ a conversation she wants to have with Minion hovering right behind her. She needs to pick her words carefully.

“You said _ it is. _  I…” God, how does she put this, “I don't think...it is. I think you're lying.”

He looks  _ totally  _ l ost. 

_ Okay,  _ she thinks,  _ Okay... _

She takes a breath. “I don't…” She quickly lets her eyes dart down, this time making  _ sure _ he sees, “...believe you.”

_ Now _ he gets it. He is doing a remarkable job of remaining composed...but Roxanne can't help but notice a creeping pinkness around the edge of his face.

Her heart is thumping in her ears. At least the ball is in his court, now.

He appears to make a decision, holds his shoulders back, and looks her dead in the eye. She can feel the little hairs on the back of her neck rise as he stalks towards her chair.

“I may be the Master of all Villainy, Miss Ritchi,” He stoops down,  _ inches  _ from her left ear, “But I  _ never  _ lie.” He paces around the back of the chair, painfully slowly

She swallows. It's now or never. “Prove it.”

He stops pacing. He's about to say something when Minion interrupts, breaking them both out of their reverie.

“Sir, what is she talking about?”

Thank God Megamind can think on his feet. “Last week, Minion, I revealed to our dear hostage here that I have an incredibly powerful weapon in my possesion. World ending power! She claims I'm lying!”

He walks back into the centre of the room, then turns to face Roxanne.

“Won't she be surprised about what I have to show her.”


	4. Chapter 4

Roxanne blinks.

That was...blatant. Sure, they've flirted in the past - that's how she wound up in this position in the first place - but never anything so...obvious. Of course as far as Minion is aware they're trading banter and evil threats, as usual, but…

_Won't she be surprised about what I have to show her._

That's just indecent, really. And...well. It's kind of hot. More than kind of. Nearly a month of worrying, of convincing herself that she'd misunderstood him, that he didn't get it, didn't like her...and now this.

But it's more than just flirting: she can read it in the curl of his smirk, the arch of his brow. It's a _challenge_. And Roxanne refuses to back down from a challenge. Plus...she’s been driving herself mad for weeks! And he's been ignoring her for weeks, ignoring what he _said_ for weeks! It's been a mess of embarrassment, uncertainty, and long nights (long days, long afternoons, long showers) lingering on those words. _I don't? It is..._

No, it won't do. He wants a challenge? Fine.

“I’m sure that if you really _did_ have something like that,” she counters, “then I’d already know about it. I _am_ a nosy reporter after all. I _notice_ things.”

She looks down again, lets her gaze linger.

“Not everything, Miss Ritchi. Some things are better left...under wraps. Until an appropriate situation arises.”

She purses her lips and raises her eyebrows - _yeah, sure._

“ _Anyway."_  He begins to stride around the room again, “We can't spend all day _chatting._  Minion: bring it over!”

“Oh, yes!”

Minion runs towards the back of the room. Roxanne strains to see over her shoulder but she’s tied in too tightly; can only hear the noise of Minion’s heavy footsteps, and then something being wheeled towards her. She narrows her eyes at Megamind as he jumps behind her, then feels the chair jerk as he grabs the back and spins it around.

“Ta-da!”

Minion is pushing a trolley, upon which is balanced…

“Is that a _bomb,_  Megamind?”

“Only the finest for you, Miss Ritchi!”

It’s taller than Minion, but not as wide - she could wrap her arms around it. It's missile shaped with fins at the bottom keeping it balanced. Speechless for once, Roxanne watches as Minion grabs the weapon and gently places it on the floor in front of her.

“Holy shit, Megamind.”

He laughs. “Impressed?”

“I actually...am, yeah. Where do you get this stuff?”

“We’ve actually got a lovely contact over in-”

“Minion!”

“Oh, right, sorry,” Minion grins, sheepishly.

Megamind shakes his head at his henchfish. “Honestly! Now, Roxanne, if you don’t mind…” He places a hand on the back of the chair and slowly makes his way around. “We’ve got to make a few adjustments.”

He bends down and begins fiddling with the ropes around her chest that bind her to the chair. With a deft twist, he undoes the knot and they go sliding down. Next: her wrists. His hands slide down her forearms - something he's never done before - and she shivers, slightly, feeling her arms rising into goosebumps as his fingers find the delicate skin on the inside of her wrists. He lingers there, longer than he strictly needs to, and when the ropes slip away she breathes a silent sigh of relief and automatically brings her arms forward, rubbing her wrists.

“Now, now; I hope you aren’t thinking of escaping?” He says, spotting the movement. “Minion, if you would?”

Roxanne suddenly finds herself being lifted out of the chair, which Minion kicks out of the way. “Sorry about this, Miss Ritchi! Couldn’t have you figuring out the surprise too early, you know how it is!”

He deposits her with her back pressed against the missile then picks up the chair in one enormous arm and carries it to the other side of the room. There’s actually a tiny cupboard - not very villainous, but practical - which he opens and -

Mixed junk falls out of the packed cupboard and clatters across the floor.

Minion yells “Sorry!” across the room as Megamind mutters “Oh, _evil Gods..."_  and slaps a hand over his eyes. Roxanne leaps at the moment of noise and distraction.

“Seriously?” She says, voice low enough so Minion can’t hear, “I hope this wasn’t what you were talking about, Megamind. Your _incredibly powerful weapon._  I’ll be very disappointed.”

He lowers his hand. She raises an eyebrow at him. “This?” He laughs, “Hah! Miss Ritchi, this is _nothing_ compared to…that.”

“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” she replies, “your ego is going to be your downfall, at this rate...especially if it’s unwarranted.”

“Perhaps,” He steps forward, “you'd like to judge that yourself, Miss Ritchi?”

A shiver runs down her spine and settles itself just below her belly button.

She licks her lips, making deliberate eye contact, determined to get him to react.

“Perhaps I would.”

He bends down, picks up the discarded rope from the ground and takes another step forward.

“Just perhaps?”

 _Oh._  She realises what he’s doing. She knows, feeling certain but not knowing why, that if she said no, if she told him she’d rather not, or even left him hanging on a _maybe,_  he’d back away and get on with the usual business of threatening to kill her.

Somehow, this is far more thrilling than when he _is_ threatening to kill her.

He’s waiting for her to respond. She hesitates, just for a moment, and looks at the rope in his hands. No doubt in just a few minutes she’ll be tied up again and, infuriatingly, _he’ll_ have all the power...and that won’t do at all.

" _Yes, then_.” It’s just above a whisper. Before he can respond she stalks forwards, away from the bomb, towards him - the space between them is only a couple of feet but it feels like miles. “Or do you need me to ask?” She raises an eyebrow, leans in, carefully positioning her body so it’s close but not touching, so there’s an inch of infuriating, tingling space between them. She turns her face towards the curve of his neck, then breathes into his ear, “ _Please,_  Megamind.”

The noise he makes is somewhere between a purr and a growl. It rumbles from his chest, low but quiet - if she wasn't so close she might not have even heard it. Roxanne can't be certain, but it seemed involuntary; he's gone completely still, holding his breath.

She pulls away and peers at him. Slowly, he starts to breathe again; his mouth slightly open. His ears and cheeks are a delicate purple colour, his eyes dark, pupils wide.

She can't stop staring at his lips. _He's hot when he's hot._

But...Minion won't be distracted forever. Her eyes still fixed on him, she steps back until she can feel the cool metal of the bomb against her back. It's grounding, almost, reminding her not to do anything... _rash._

He swallows, regaining his composure. He seems to have had the same thought. “Well, then,” he approaches her, rope in hand. “I’d recommend holding still. Arms up.”

He moves in, then pauses. A half-smile plays on his face, and he steps around to approach from the side, unwaveringly close, as if _daring_ her to comment on his nearness. Like her, he's keeping a careful space between them. She eyes him carefully, watching his every move, as he reaches around the missile, around _her..._ wrapping the rope around her torso, going twice, then thrice, and Roxanne can feel her heart pounding, like her skin's on fire. And then he stops. She can hear his breath behind her, low and even, tickling her ear. He ties the rope-

And tugs.

Roxanne moans.

She doesn't mean to. It slips out before she can stop it. She freezes. He freezes. Minion, on the other side of the room, is completely oblivious.

It was quiet enough that she could pass it off as a gasp. Say that he took her by surprise. That he winded her. The rope is tight around her ribcage. She can feel it digging in as she breathes - it makes her aware of just how deep she’s breathing.

He sidles around the missile to get a better look at her. He probably didn’t even notice. Or, or he thought it was too tight, or didn’t-

He raises his eyebrows. That's all he needs to do. Of _course_ he noticed. Damn. At least they're even now.

“Too tight, Miss Ritchi?” He asks, his face a picture of innocence, his voice low.

She blushes furiously at him. He smirks at her, a smug look on his face, and appears to settle on a decision.

“In that case…”

He picks up the discarded rope that had been binding her wrists a few minutes ago. He plays with it for a moment, twisting it between his fingers like he’s testing it. Roxanne watches, enraptured, butterflies swooping in her stomach.

The rope _thing_ is something she tries not to think about all that much. She’d experimented with the whole…tied and tying up scene back before she was pretending to date a superhuman and saying that she had enjoyed it would probably be an understatement. Since fake-dating Wayne, she’d only met two people willing to risk fooling around with her and both of them had been offended - even appalled - at the suggestion. She’d dropped it quickly, keen not to spark the rumour mills.

Megamind’s continual insistence on tying her up at what appeared to be every opportunity did not go unnoticed. Over the past few months, she’d started to wonder if he did it on purpose - if he shared her particular quirk - but she dismissed those thoughts as no more than wishful thinking encouraged by her growing feelings for the alien.

Now, she’s not sure if it really _was_ wishful thinking. The way he looks at her - it’s like he wants to _devour_ her.

“Do you need any assistance, Sir?”

Minion, still on the other side of the room, has turned around.

Megamind glowers at him. _"No,"_ He says, shortly, “I think I can handle this. Why don’t you go make sure the Brainbots are ready to be deployed?”

Minion looks unsure. “Are you sure, Sir?”

“Quite sure. There’s no point _having_ a swarm of flying death bots if they don’t work, is there?”

“Yes, Sir, but…” Minion glances at Roxanne.

“I think I am _quite_ capable of ensuring Miss Ritchi doesn’t escape, don’t you think?”

Minion notices his glare. “Oh, of course, yes! I’ll go and just…”

He vanishes, dashing out of the room.

Megamind’s expression softens as he turns back to his captive. “Where were we? Wrists, please.”

He’s not _asking._  It’s not a request. Usually, Roxanne would refuse, would tease him, but the way he’s looking at her with low, lidded eyes and the tone of his voice means she finds herself presenting her hands to him, unthinkingly.

“Much better.”

He starts to wind the rope around her wrists, binding her hands together. She looks up at him, but he’s engrossed in the task, twisting the rope around. He pulls it tight, and Roxanne waits for him to tie the final knot.

What he actually does is slip two fingers between the rope and her skin, running them around the perimeter of the rope, once more teasing the skin of her wrists and hands. She shudders.

“I...what are you…” She manages.

“Not too tight?”

She shakes her head, wordlessly.

“Good.”

His fingers slide from the space between her wrists, and with a flourish ties the rope.

“One last thing, Miss Ritchi.”

He moves into a corner and finds, from somewhere, another, much longer length of rope. Roxanne vaguely wonders where it’s all coming from.

In a complicated knot, he loops the rope through the bindings on her wrists and pulls it taught. She looks on in confusion as he backs away, then peers up.

Following his gaze, she spots a kind of hook protruding from the uppermost part of the missile. _Ah._

He’s spotted her, realised she’s figured out what he’s about to do.

“Arms up, then.”

She desperately wants to obey. But she can’t, not this time.

“I quite like my arms where they are, thank you.”

“I wasn’t aware that you had much say in the matter, Miss Ritchi.”

She tosses her head, ficking a stray hair out of her eyes. “You know, if you’re going to tie me up like this, you could _at least_ call me Roxanne.”

He smirks. “I could. Arms?”

She sticks her chin out at him.

“Pity.”

In a lithe movement, he flings the rope up and manages to catch it on the hook on the first try. Carefully, so as not to actually pull her arms out of their sockets, he starts to tug on the rope and raise Roxanne’s arms above her head. The movement is gentle, and Roxanne lets her arms raise up, wondering what the next step in his plan is.

He stands back, the rope in one hand, and admires his handiwork. There's still slack in the line. He gives the rope another experimental tug, and Roxanne finds her arms being lifted even more, her back straightening, her chest pushing out. It's like she's _presenting_ herself to him. She shudders a little as he pulls on the rope.

He seems satisfied. Maintaining the tension, he makes his way over to her and begins to loop the rope through the bonds tying her to the bomb. He’s leaning just behind her now; she can hear his breathing. She’s resisting the urge to lean back, to get closer to him, desperate to feel his lips on her neck.

His hands have stopped moving.

“I don't think I've _ever_ tied you up like this, Roxanne.”

He gives the rope one last tug as he secures it in place. Roxanne manages to stifle the little gasp that tries to escape her mouth. It’s hearing her name - her _first_ name - in his voice, that pushes her over an edge she wasn’t even aware of. She wriggles beneath the ropes, trying to reposition herself, trying to distract her body from the sudden rush of blood. It’s no good - every time she moves, the ropes just rub against her skin in new and exciting ways.

She hasn’t even realised that he’s moved away until he slides back into view and looks her up and down. She can feel the flush across her chest and collarbones, sneaking up to her cheeks, wonders if he can see how deep her breathing is.

Judging by his own rising chest and his startlingly purple ears, she’s obviously not the only one struggling to maintain some self-control.

He’s about to say something when he’s cut off by frenzied _bowg-ing,_  followed by the tell-tale stomping of Minion’s robotic body. Roxanne freezes as a dozen brainbots come zooming into the room and fly around her and Megamind. It’s almost like they _know_ what’s been going on, the way they rush around her, examining her.

Minion glances at Roxanne - she can’t tell if he’s noticed her pink cheeks, if he’s realised that she’s tied up in a fashion bordering on obscene. If he _does_ notice, he doesn’t show any sign of it, but quickly looks away. She steals a look at Megamind, who no longer looks quite as flustered - his quick breathing easily explained by his usual exuberance at another chance to threaten Metro Man.

“We’re good to go, Sir!” He calls, “Everyone’s working at one hundred percent!”

“Fantastic! Are the camera-bots ready?”

“Yes, sir!”

Three brainbots sweep forwards, each with camera-lenses for eyes, little red lights flashing in their brain-cases.

“Now, Miss Ritchi, if you please? A scream? A call for help? Anything would be suitable, you know how it goes.”

She raises her eyebrows at him. She’s still buzzing for him, her mind a mess. The sudden change in tone hits her like whiplash.

“You want me to scream?”

“If you’d be so kind.”

She shuffles, repositioning herself as best she can with her arms hoisted above her head, pushing out her chest _just_ a fraction. She licks her lips. She refuses to back down, now.

“Make me.” She squares her shoulders. “If you _can."_

He looks, just for a fraction of a second, like he’s going to rip the ropes off and do just that; but he’s still in supervillain mode. He scowls at her, then turns to Minion.

“Minion, this isn’t going anywhere. Turn the cameras on: we’ll improvise!”

“Yes Sir!”

Megamind leaps back towards the console and hides himself in the shadows. On the other side of the room, several screens light up: it’s clear that the pair have hidden cameras all over the city, ready to capture whatever he’s got planned.

The brain-bots’ lights flick to green.

“Metrocity!” Megamind bellows, striding dramatically from the darkness, “Soon you will be mine!”

He must have projections set up alongside the hidden cameras - the screens show people rushing over, panicking, angrily gesticulating.

“Oh moan, moan!” He continues, pacing, “I hear you all calling for your beloved savior. But he can’t help you this time, Metrocity! Not unless he can be in two places at once!” He chuckles ominously, before carrying on, “You’ve got five minutes to run and hide, citizens, before we unleash destruction upon you all!”

He makes a swift _cut_ motion with his hand and the brainbot cameras switch back off.

“There we go. Now we wait.”

Roxanne looks around at the room, empty other than the console and the missile. “What’s going on, Megamind?”

He waves a hand, “The usual, Miss Ritchi: untold terror!”

“Yeah, sure, sure...but today that means..?”

“You’ll see! Minion, I believe we’ve given them enough time. Unleash phase two!”

“Yes, Sir!”

Minion clanks over to the console and presses a series of buttons. Roxanne watches the screens, waiting to see what they’re planning. There’s an alarm that rings through the room, and then the screens fill with Brainbots, swarming the streets and causing...well, it’s not _terror,_  but it’s certainly inconvenience. One screen shows a streetlight being knocked over.

But what’s all this got to do with her and this…Oh, _of course._

“I’m a distraction...” Megamind turns to look at her. “That’s what the missile’s all about. Metro Man comes to rescue me while you two run amok in the city with no one to stop you. Am I right?”

It’s a good plan, she has to admit. Of course, it’ll never work; Metro Man’s super hearing will pick up the sound of her voice from _miles_ away, and he’ll be there in no time. Probably.

Megamind grins, looking impressed. “Well-”

“Megamind!” Metro Man appears on one of the screens.

“Oooh, the hero of the hour! Minion, cameras!” The brainbots turn back on. “Metro Man! How good to see you!”

“Megamind! You fiend, what have you got planned this time?”

“Oh, nothing much: just your complete annihilation!”

Roxanne sighs. Here we go. She wonders, vaguely, if they can just go back to tying her up.

“Call off your machines, fiend, or I’ll be forced to stop them myself!

“Good luck with that, Metro Man! I think you’ll find you’re a little _outnumbered!"_

“One noble heart is worth a hundred evil ones, Megamind!”

Ah, right on cue, the terrible banter.

“That may be so, Metro Man: But who will you save this time?”

“What?”

“Your beloved city...or your _dear_ paramore Miss Ritchi!”

Roxanne rolls her eyes. _Not his girlfriend! I’m not his girlfriend!_ Then realises with a start that the cameras have turned to her.

“Roxie!”

Oh, right: certain death. “I’m okay!” She calls, “We’re...I’m not sure _where_ we are, but I’m okay!”

“You monster, Megamind! You won’t get away with this!”

“I believe I already have! What’ll it be, Metro Man: stop the ruin of the city or save Miss Ritchi from a rather _messy_ end? And, oh, just to sweeten the deal…”

He flings out an arm and huge, red numbers illuminate just above Roxanne’s head. It’s a countdown.

“You’ve only got fifteen minutes to decide!”

He makes another _cut_ gesture, then turns to Minion with a grin. “Minion, get the bikes ready.”

“On it, Sir!”

Minion crashes away gleefully.

As soon as he’s gone, Roxanne speaks up. She’s not going to just let him leave her here like this, like he’s _won._  She’s cleverer than that; she just needs to push him in the right direction.

“This all seems a little unnecessary, you know.”

“Excuse me?”

Positioned like this, with her arms way above her head and the tight rope around her ribs, she’s aware of how very _damsel_ she looks. If she was untied, if she could move - oh the things she’d be doing now. But she’s trapped, and there’s only one thing for it.

“It’s just...blowing me up rather than saying ‘actually, Miss Ritchi, I'm afraid you're not my type’. Or…” she cocks an eyebrow, “just admitting you were lying.”

He creeps forwards so they’re inches apart. Her heart quickens. “Firstly…” He raises a hand...and knocks on the side of the missile. Roxanne gasps and ducks away - a futile gesture, considering she’s still tied to it. It makes a hollow, ringing sound that echoes around the room. He grins. “This is a _dud,_  Miss Ritchi. Did you _really_ think I’d tie you to a functional bomb?”

As he talks, he moves his hands towards her face. She holds her breath, and he...he starts to straighten up her hair. She peers at his hands, slowly and deliberately placing the strands of hair back in place as he continues. The touch is like electricity.

“Would I do away with my best victim just like that?”

“I’m your _only_ victim.”

He shrugs. “That also makes you my _worst_ victim. What was that you were saying about _ego_ , hmm? Secondly - as I _believe_ we’ve touched on - not lying.”

“Mm-hmm, sure.”

“And thirdly…” His eyes dart to the empty doorway, and suddenly his hand isn’t in her hair anymore, but on her chin, his fingers firm but gentle on her jaw as he tilts her head upward, and then - he’s kissing her.

Roxanne feels like she’s about to explode. It’s like she’s lighting up from the inside, fireworks going off in her brain. Every single nerve ending in her body is on fire, the desperate swooping in her stomach a cocktail of adrenaline and shock and _want._

She finds herself pulling at the wrist restraints. She needs to touch him, needs to be able to run her hands on his face just as he does hers, but the ropes are tight and her arms suspended above her head and _now_ she realises why he tied her like this.

The kiss is passionate, firy. It’s triumphant. He’s saying: _No: I’ve won._

There’s a crash from somewhere far away which Roxanne barely registers.

“Sir, sir!”

Megamind suddenly breaks away from her, her lips on fire and her face tingling where his hands were just moments before, and Minion bursts through the open door.

“We’re ready to go, Sir!”

“Excellent!” He spins around, not even breaking his stride, the only evidence of what he was just doing in the pinkness of his ears and lips, “See you around, Miss Ritchi!”

And he’s gone. She struggles against the ropes but it’s a futile gesture - she’s stuck, breathless and desperate for more.

 _Fuck._  That’s just unfair.

 

\---

 

Ten minutes later, Roxanne is starting to get bored. Not _worried,_  she tells herself, certainly not _worried._  Just bored.

He’s left the screens turned on, and from her position she can see Brainbots going about their jobs of various, low-grade villainy. There’s a car near her office - a car which she’s almost certain was abandoned a few days ago - on fire. A few Brainbots in the city centre have gotten their hands on some spraypaint and are busily spraying obscene doodles all over the Metro Man statue. Every so often, Megamind or Minion will pop up in a screen.

She thinks about the kiss. She thinks about it _a lot._  She’d been wondering if this was all an elaborate set-up and he’d be back before the counter’s finished to untie her and...

Well.

A little voice in the back of her mind keeps reminding her that he’s a supervillain. That he’s _evil,_  allegedly. The doubtful little feeling niggles at her brain. _What if he’s just playing with you, just teasing you? He knows your weakness, now: It’s_ _him._

That would mean he was faking it. Roxanne’s kissed, well, not a _lot_ of people, but enough. If he’s faking it, then he’s an incredible actor.

Above her head, the countdown begins to beep. She had, truthfully, completely forgotten about the whole “immediate peril” situation. From the angle she’s strapped to the missile, she can’t read the timer, and she wonders if she’s got ten seconds or thirty. Not that it matters, if the bomb’s a dud.

_If._

No - no, that really _is_ stupid. Megamind may be toying with her in other ways, but that...that wasn’t a lie. She’s too valuable to just blow up.

The countdown starts to beep more loudly and desperately. She rolls her eyes: _seriously, Megamind, did you have to choose the most obnoxious noise possible?_

And then she can hear footsteps. The sound of a door, far way.

She feels her pulse quicken again. Has he come back, has he decided to stop fucking _with_ her and actually..? The sudden image flashes across her mind of Megamind throwing open the door, running back in, pulling away the ropes and kissing her again, kissing her like she _wants_ to be kissed.

The footsteps grow louder, approaching the door, and she’s about to call out, tease him for coming back -

But the door bursts open - it’s literally thrown off its hinges - and there’s Wayne in the doorway, panic in his eyes.

“Rox-”

And the bomb goes off.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, it's time. The tags are changing.
> 
> This is my first shot at writing anything smutty (or even smutty-ish) so. Yes. Here we go!


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